Sunday, 25 October 2015
A new day, some further time to comeback to this. The memory of her in the bed on my last post had stopped me typing further last time, but the need to get down everything drives me back to this. We were allowed to go see her which at this point she was in an intensive emergency unit in A&E. Most of his family said goodbye at this point even though it was not finalised as I think deep down we all knew what was coming. My husband throughout this had had a quiet weep but I was genuinely worried for him, he is not a man who expresses deep emotion and I knew the worst was going to come for him. The second opinion came back with the same news, there wasn't an operation that could save her. They moved her to the intensive care unit at this point to monitor her over night in case of any changes. We all moved with her and stayed for the couple of hours it took to transfer her, to see her again, to talk to her. At this point, me and my hubby decided to go home as we would have to be back very early in the morning, his dad did not leave her side at all that night nor do I think he slept. We returned in the morning with coffee and food for his dad, my husband's brother and fiance rejoining us. The last step in this, the last chance came back that morning, her brain stem results. This was the last hurdle of if there was any hope but it fell flat, it reconfirmed everything they had told us on from the outset. We all took turns to go say proper goodbyes to her. I didn't know what to say but I told her I would be strong and look after her son no matter what, that everyone loved her and that would never change. And then.. she was gone. My husband couldn't face being there for the final moments, neither could his brother and his father ended up facing it alone. To this day I don't know how he did it and when he fell through the door a shattered man it was heart breaking to realise she really had gone.
I've had blogger for a while and it has always been in the background, it has been dusted off today as I've a tale to tell which is an ongoing one and I need a place that isn't close to the heart and all can be said guilt free. Grieving is an odd thing, it can be done over a number of things but the main crux of it is loss. I lost my grandmother when I was very young but until this year have never had to face deep overwhelming grief. It all started on the 29th May 2015, we were waiting to be picked up by my husband's parents to go out for a birthday meal as his brother's birthday was a couple of days later. His mum called to say they were going to be a bit late but if we could wait outside, it was all a normal conversation and I can remember my husband telling his mum "Love you" as he always does. Little did we know that 20 mins later everything would change.. We wait outside and time ticked on, his dad usually being a bit late we didn't think anything of it. We then got the call from his dad saying they were waiting for an ambulance because he though my husband's mum had had a stroke, he didn't want us to go to the hospital and just to go inside and wait. Half hour later, we got a further call with him sobbing and telling us to get there now because it wasn't good. We rushed down to A&E where we were escorted to a quiet room away from everything else, all of my husband's family had turned up in the meantime and crowded inside. It was explained to us his mum had had a catastrophic bleed on the brain, they did not think anything could be done and they were gaining a second opinion, but the ultimate message repeated throughout was we needed to say our goodbyes. It was a surreal moment to have your life turned upside down, shock protected me at this point as all I can remember doing was looking after my husband and his family. At one point having to calm someone down because they had hyperventilated and no medical staff were there at that moment. We were all invited to see her, to touch her, to speak with her, but that was the biggest shock of all. To see someone you know and love in a bed on ventilation, their body is being breathed for them and they don't seem there anymore. Even the memory of this now has me quietly weeping over my keyboard. I think I will pick this up another night.